First real chapter. Saw in the reviews that some people were looking forwards to seeing how Adam and Cinder's relationship developed. That'll be explored later in the story, but that's not the central story of this fic.
To explain a bit clearer what this is about, this AU is going to focus on the children of a bunch of RWBY crackships. The last chapter was a flashback, essentially, written in order to set some context. If that doesn't interest you this fic might not be for you. No hard feelings. Otherwise, enjoy the next chapter!
Wilt came unsheathed only the tiniest amount, the blood-red blade closest to the hilt exposing itself to the muggy air inside of the Bullhead. The smudge of a fingerprint, barely noticeable to the more inexperienced, was quickly scouted out and neutralized with an oiled cloth. Wilt found herself flipped from horizontal to vertical and the blade rose into the air, finding itself held before a pair of narrowed eyes which scanned her carefully for any further imperfections.
These eyes, however, were not blue. In all of her eighteen years, Scarlet had never had blue eyes. She'd inherited the trademark orange-gold irises of her mother Cinder, her father's recessive genes fading to the background when faced with the more commanding genetic coding of her mother.
Scarlet smirked into the reflection on her blade. Heh. She'd seen the same dominant-submissive pattern play out whenever her parents decided to argue. Probably in the bedroom too, not that Adam would ever admit it.
Pushing aside the errant thought, Scarlet returned to inspecting her trusty weapon. Satisfied that her father's sword was sufficiently cleaned, she sheathed the blade once more, taking a moment to ensure it was secured next to its twin blade Bleed, and cast her gaze across the passenger compartment of the Bullhead. The cramped, gunmetal interior was alight with noise and movement. Vale's best young huntsmen candidates had been assembled for the yearly pilgrimage to Beacon, and Scarlet was acutely aware of the fact that these students would be her competition come enrollment. Thus, Scarlet decreed that it was a prime opportunity for one of her favorite activities: people-watching!
Scanning the room, her eyes drifted over the wide variety of flashy clothing and even flashier weapons that signaled Huntsmen. After a good minute or so of examining the other occupants of the craft, they finally found themselves naturally drawn to the most dramatic event visible to her. Directly across from Scarlet on the aircraft, two girls were engaged in a ferocious argument. Judging by their looks and mannerisms, Scarlet pegged them almost immediately as related, or at the very least familiar with one another.
One girl stood shorter than the other, platinum blond hair pulled back in an active ponytail. Scarlet wrinkled her nose. Everything about the girl screamed aristocrat. She wore a cropped orange riding jacket with blue highlights, which sat atop an expensive-looking formal blouse that would've looked more at home in an opera house than on a training field. Some kind of black corset occupied her midsection, and a similarly-colored pair of what appeared to be riding pants ran down her legs, adorned with a simple yet elegant gold stripe that ran down the outside of the garment. Topping off the look was a pair of white gilded-and-heeled boots extravagant enough to make Scarlet's eyes roll of their own volition. The regal look extended to her weapon, which consisted of a relatively simple broadsword and an accompanying parry blade, sheathed together in an impeccably clean white and gold sheathe.
Scarlet frowned, noticing the length of the weapon. Was it just her, or was the blade a little too long and unwieldy for a girl of her stature? Wouldn't her slender, clearly agile stature also compliment a rapier better? Ultimately, she ignored the thought. Despite the girl's pompous attitude, the way she held herself indicated a capable fighter. She would wait until after she beat the princess in the ring to criticize her weapon choice.
The other girl, who sported a shock of black hair and a pair of stunning purple eyes, was perfectly haughty in her own regard, but there was a little touch of ferocity there that Scarlet hadn't detected in the other girl. Much more white-collar defense attorney than upset ice queen. Scarlet made a quick mental note to avoid any future arguments with the girl. Giving her a once-over, Scarlet was thrilled to find a Mistrali-style naginata strapped across her back. The weapon could've been a cousin to Wilt if not for the strange array of lenses that was partially embedded in the handle of the weapon. A laser of some sort? Some strange new Dust projection system? Scarlet was intrigued. She'd ask Jet when he woke up.
During her examination of the two girls, Scarlet found evidence that her earlier assumption regarding their relationship was likely correct. Her evidence came in the form of the two women's Huntsman symbols. Typically, these were designed to be easily recognizable and entirely distinct, so civilians in dangerous situations could easily identify who had come to assist them. These two girls, however, both primarily sported the same snowflake motif. This appeared to be the crux of their disagreement.
"As the eldest scion of the Arc-Schnee family, it falls to me to ca-"
The dark-haired girl cut her off. "That's bullshit, Lumi! It was Jacques' before your mother was even born! The Arc family has a symbol, why not just use his instead?"
"Your father lost all claims to the Schnee symbol when he decided to have an–"
The argument rapidly devolved from there, resembling little more than a shouting match by the end of things. For two girls so proud of their so-called noble blood, their problem-solving skills reminded her far too much of squabbling children. Already she could see a wide berth forming around the two. She decided to look elsewhere.
To the right of the two girls and entirely unaffected by the growing quarantine zone, she noticed another blonde leaning against the wall. This one, however, seemed to carry no pretense of regality. Instead, the tall, pony-tailed man was eagerly watching the two fight, a shit-eating grin plastered across the front of his face. She imagined if the Bullhead had been a sports venue he would've been asking others for bets. As he glanced up from the debacle, the two momentarily locked eyes. He jerked his head towards the two and raised his eyebrows, seemingly asking her if he should get involved. When she gestured noncommittally, the man promptly shrugged, lost interest in her, and turned back to his entertainment. She couldn't blame him. It was pretty entertaining.
"Whaddaya spy Scar?"
A playful tug on her horns dragged her eyes away from the scene. Her friend Jet, who had been sleeping a moment ago, was now upright and brushing his green mop of hair out of his red eyes. He was dressed in his usual attire, a green and yellow bomber jacket over a white tee and a simple pair of gray jeans. Simple, maybe, but flexible enough for any sudden appearances in the combat ring.
None of this mattered to her, however. He had crossed a line. A long-established line. She responded to his question with a jab to the ribs.
"Ow! What the hell Scarlet?" Jet glared at her and rubbed the sore spot, but she held her ground.
"I told you Jet! The horns are off limits!" Jet made to argue, but a quick wave of the (thankfully) sheathed Wilt and Bleed had him reconsidering. Instead, he leaned back, resigning himself to a lost argument and looking the same way she had a moment earlier. He whistled softly.
"Geez. I'd heard the Schnee family was a mess but I never thought I'd get to see it firsthand. You think this is normal for them?"
She did, some part of her deep down whispered, but out of either fear or respect for the two girls she decided not to make her feelings known on the matter. The Schnee family relations were a known mess to anyone with a television and a seemingly sensitive topic to anyone related to the family. The last thing she needed was to draw the two's ire.
Speaking of drawing ire, Scarlet noticed the blonde man had gotten bored of watching and decided to make his move. Good, she mused. He'd calm the two girls down, the noise levels of the room would decrease exponentially and the rest of their flight would go much more smoothly. She turned to Jet.
"So, resident weapon nerd, what's up with that girl's weapon?"
She gestured towards the darker-haired woman. Jet's eyes lit up almost immediately.
"That's a dust laser!" The excitement of this new distraction caused his voice to crack for a moment, which earned a chuckle from Scarlet. Jet shot her a glare before continuing.
"They're pretty proven conceptually, but ridiculously expensive," he explained. "You'd have to be pretty wealthy to ever maintain one. Guess being a Schnee helps with that."
Scarlet nodded, giving the mystery girl another once-over. The arguing pair were reaching uncomfortable levels of loud now. She turned back to Jet, ready to divulge the long list of schemes she had concocted for the two of them upon arrival. She opened her mouth to speak but was immediately interrupted by someone else.
"Belka, was it?"
Across the Bullhead, the taller, dark-haired girl stopped arguing for a second and turned her murderous gaze towards the new voice. The blonde man, who had finished making his way over to the arguing pair, grinned mischievously. A brief silence settled over the passenger compartment as people quickly took note of the new development.
"Why'd you ape her logo?"
A veritable wave of new noise crashed into Scarlet, imploring her, Jet, and everybody else in the aircraft to turn their attention back to the newly ignited squabble. Lumi was currently showering the intruder with vague promises of riches and splendor, and the dark-haired girl apparently named Belka was attempting to lodge her foot firmly between the man's legs. He took it in stride, dancing agilely out of the way and retreating to the other side of the Bullhead, laughing the whole way.
Scarlet sighed. Some things just couldn't be fixed, she supposed. Schnee family relations were obviously somewhere on that list.
Goose stepped off the Bullhead, glancing behind her as she ducked out of the ramp's line of view. What a nightmare. Lumi and Belka had been too busy arguing each other's ears off to spend time with her, and so she'd ended up with Liz, who had naturally decided to talk her ear off for the remainder of their trip. She wished she could say the conversation had been pleasant, but it had really just been Elizabeth lecturing her on the values of academic performance and the various challenges she'd face. Like she hadn't already known! And just to add insult to injury, the two squabbling Schnees had then had the audacity to wander their way and try to drag them into their argument. Bah. The whole experience had left a bad taste in her mouth, and she spit into the nearby grass in an attempt to clear it.
After taking a moment more to collect herself, Goose turned, suddenly finding herself face-to-face with her home for the next few years. Beacon. She'd been here before: it was hard to avoid the place when your father was head of security. Qrow had once remarked that the place was more a home to him than the house they'd bought in Vale. She'd never really looked at the place as anything more than a landmark, but now that she was to study here the soaring arches and impressive towers had taken on a whole new meaning. The beauty was marred here and there; the place had almost been leveled during the Battle of Beacon. Scuff marks and little chips could be seen on the occasional wall, and if you looked at the clock tower closely you could clearly see where it had been rebuilt. Overall, it was the same old Beacon, or at least that's what Qrow had assured her.
Goose's red eyes flashed. Qrow! She'd meant to call him when she landed. She fumbled with her pockets for a moment, eventually producing her scroll. It rang only once before the familiar faces of her parents enveloped the screen. Her mom Willow, eager face framed in a cascade of white, was the first to speak.
"Hey, honey! How's our gosling?" The nickname made Goose roll her eyes, but she smiled nonetheless. She'd heard stories of her mother before she and Qrow had gotten together. They hadn't been good. Maybe her mother was over-compensating a little with the affection, but Goose was grateful for the love all the same.
"Fine, mom. I just got here."
"Have you met with Aunt–"
"Just got here, mom."
"What about–"
"Just got here."
"Did you pack your–"
"Mom!" Goose practically had to scream to stop her mother's doting tirade. Through the call she could see Qrow in the background, practically doubled over in laughter. She stamped her foot in irritation. If she was expecting any kind of help from him, she was going to be sorely disappointed.
Willow, to her credit, slowed her assault. "Sorry, honey. I'm just worried is all. You've never been away from home like this before!"
Goose, once more, rolled her eyes. "If by 'away from home' you mean an hour away, maybe. Dad's flying in later tonight anyways. I'll be fine. Are you going to be alright? Empty roost and all."
Willow's face softened, and her smile turned a touch melancholy. "I'll be alright. Don't worry about that, you just enjoy yourself. Have you seen Winter or Weiss's daughters yet?"
Goose cringed at the reminder of the Schnee children, an act that did not go unnoticed. Willow stayed silent, however. She knew her grandchildren were a little difficult. She'd heard from their mothers themselves. Internally, she sighed. Teenagers.
Qrow took the silence as an opportunity to sidle up closer to the camera, giving his wife a quick peck on the cheek. The years had been kind to Beacon's chief of security, and he looked closer to his forties than the sixty years that Goose liked to laud over him. Streaks of gray peppered his hair and facial hair, and a pair of crow's feet fittingly adorned the corners of his eyes, but besides that, there was little difference between the current Qrow and the Qrow who had worked so closely with Ozpin.
Besides the lack of a flask, of course. Willow and Qrow had made a pact when she had fallen pregnant: no more drinking. The wine bottles had been thrown away, and the flask, a gift from Summer so many years ago, had been framed. It hung above his bed now, a constant reminder of how far he'd come.
He gave his daughter a shit-eating grin. "Burn the place down yet Goose?"
"If I had your Semblance, maybe I would've."
"Your Semblance only manipulates probability towards unlikely events. Sounds like it would be pretty useless if you're going to burn it down anyways." Qrow's grin widened more. He enjoyed needling her, and he was proud of the fact that she gave as good as she got. She truly was his daughter.
"Sounds like you'll have to show me how it's done once you get up here," Goose said, earning a quick chuckle from Qrow. However, his joy didn't last, and after a moment of brief silence, his facial expression turned pensive.
"Hey, uh, Goose?" He asked gently.
"Yeah, dad?"
Qrow scratched his head. "We appreciate the call, really, but don't you have somewhere you should be?"
Goose blinked. Hard. Her orientation! Panic began to mount. With a string of curses (much to Willow's displeasure and Qrow's amusement), she made a hasty goodbye to her parents and slammed her finger down on the "end call" button. Craning her neck around, she looked briefly across the central courtyard where the newcomers had been collected upon arrival. Empty. Had everybody already moved ahead? She'd heard rumors of the brutal efficiency the headmistress was known for, but even so, this was a little ridiculous. Cursing some more, she took off at a dead sprint, aiming for the amphitheater where she knew the professors would be greeting the students on their first day. Along the way, she received a fair number of cheers and shouts from the older students lazing around the campus. She hazarded a guess that she wasn't the first person to have done this. The thought did little to reassure her at the moment.
Beacon's size from the air had proven deceptive. While Goose could've sworn that the central part of the campus was a few city blocks at most, it took Goose a fair few minutes to reach her destination, even in the excellent shape she was in. Alas, after what felt like an eternity of running, the large domed roof of the amphitheater peaked into view. Panting heavily, Goose was motivated by the sight of the last few students filing into the building. She hadn't missed it! Pouring on the speed, she dashed across the remaining distance in an instant, reaching the door just as it was about to close. With a victorious shout, she lowered her shoulder and turned side-on to the door, rushing through the rapidly narrowing gap just in the nick of time.
And right into someone's back. As her eyes adjusted to the relatively dim lighting, Goose found herself on a collision course with another student.
"Watch out!"
She shouted a warning to the figure, but it was far too little, far too late. As her feet scrabbled for purchase on the slick marble floor and the figure began to turn, Goose realized that she was far past the point of avoidance. As she closed her eyes and braced for impact, the last thing she saw was a rapidly-approaching red mane of hair, a pair of horns, and the very confused face of a very surprised young Huntress.
"-In terms of civil expectations, students of Beacon are held to the highest of standards. There will be no–"
Scarlet sighed. Internally, lest she be heard over the deafening silence that lay suspended over the crowd of students. She had heard the headmistress, the one and only Glynda Goodwitch, was a lot of things, but long-winded was not a trait normally mentioned. Alas, the speech she was giving was boring, and so she spent her time examining the various professors that littered the stage.
Glynda herself stood at the front of the group, addressing the crowd from a microphone set up at the front of the stage. On her direct left and right stood two others. One was a brown-haired, tan man who stood dressed in green, a cane balanced between his legs. This struck Scarlet as odd immediately; what business did a man of his age, who she could only guess was in his early thirties, have with a cane? It puzzled her, but not enough to hold her attention any longer than a brief acknowledgment. The character on Glynda's other side was much more intriguing to her. As the speech went on, the girl, a short, professionally-dressed woman sporting business attire, seemed to scooch further and further away from the spotlight which swamped Glynda, and her hands were fidgeting the whole time. Her young, pixieish face was framed by a striking bob of black hair with red fringes, and Scarlet was surprised to find a pair of shining silver eyes peeking out whenever she bothered to look up from the floor and out towards the students.
Further back on the stage sat the rest of the professors. Scarlet glanced over them quickly, making note of a wiry older man with green hair, a giant bulk of a man who was actively scanning the crowd, and a shorter woman with a crystalline-looking left arm. Satisfied she could remember their faces, she turned to her right where Jet stood.
He looked just as bored as she did. "Geez, talk about a–" she whispered, only to be interrupted by the sudden pounding of feet behind her. Turning, instincts on high alert, Scarlet found herself face-to-face with an incoming shoulder tackle, delivered by a short, red-eyed young woman who looked just about as surprised as Scarlet suddenly felt.
She didn't even have time to brace before the girl slammed into her, shoulder connecting with face in a blinding flash of aura. Pain lanced through her nose, earning a small yelp from her as she collapsed to the ground. That had hurt, dammit! Who did this girl think she was, hitting her like that on the first day? Was this some kind of initiation ritual? She rolled over, ripping Wilt free from her scabbard and swinging towards the prone figure who had attacked her. A terrible idea in hindsight, but she was so surprised that her mind was operating on combat instincts and irritation alone. The girl was fast, however, and rolled out of the way just in time, Wilt barely nicking the edge of her aura before skittering across the black stone floor.
She felt a hand fall on her shoulder, presumably Jet's, but she was already moving and paid him no mind. Scarlet ripped herself free of his grasp and advanced on the girl, whose red eyes were now full of obvious frustration and a touch of panic. She made to speak just as Scarlet swung, a startled cry escaping the girl's lips as the red blade carved through the air where her head had been a moment before. In retaliation the girl threw a jab into her ribs, winding Scarlet. Sensing another strike coming, she dodged deftly out of the way of the following elbow and kicked the girl backward, sending her tumbling and creating distance. Scarlet grinned as the girl, now prone, tried to quickly right herself. A perfect opportunity! With a cry she lunged forward, using every muscle in her upper body in a devastating downward blow that her father had drilled into her countless times before. The competitive spirit inside her cheered with glee. Her first duel at Beacon, as unplanned as it had been, would result in victory.
Except, as Scarlet lunged forwards, she felt a tugging at her feet. Scarlet hazarded a glance down. To her shock and dismay, her combat boots had betrayed her, somehow tangling themselves in such a way that a perfect, tight knot could be seen connecting the laces on each boot. Thrown off balance, Scarlet windmilled her arms for balance before tumbling forwards with an indignant squawk. She fell face-first towards her opponent, who glanced up just in time to see Scarlet doing her best belly-flop impression directly onto her torso. Skull met skull as the two crashed against the hard floor in a heap of tangled limbs.
From there, the fight devolved into a bloody melee. Hair was pulled, and elbows and knees were thrown haphazardly. At one point Scarlet thought she felt teeth on her forearm. An empty circle in the crowd quickly opened as the two-girl tornado rolled around on the floor, screeching and yelling obscenities. Jet, who at first had tried to break the two up, stood helplessly to the side, watching the two women as they sorted their issues out the old-fashioned way.
Suddenly, a force ripped at Scarlet's back, throwing her a good ten feet into the air. Disoriented, clothes dirtied and hair spilling into her eyes, it took her a second to calm down and realize that no, she wasn't falling back towards the ground, but rather floating above it, suspended in a purple haze that glowed with rich, arcane energy. Craning her neck to the right, her opponent, who looked just as disheveled as herself, hung in the air in much the same manner. She took a little pride in the fact that the girl looked more disheveled than she did. Grinning a little, she cast her eyes around the room, reveling in her momentary victory until she saw a sight that made her blood run cold.
At the front of the room, standing in the middle of a wide, fearful berth and holding a riding crop, stood a very blonde, very upset headmistress. Even from a good sixty feet away, Scarlet could practically feel the anger radiating off the woman in hot waves, her gaze burning a hole through Scarlet's head. A deathly silence hung over the room as every set of eyes set themselves upon the two suspended Huntresses
Crap. Desperate for anything to defuse the awkward tension, Scarlet spoke the very first thing that popped into her mind.
"Did I win?"